Chapter 14 #2
Susan flapped a hand. ‘That too; anyway, Gregor will be here soon, so you’d better get ready.
I am looking forward to this. Apparently there is a wine called Vin Santo, which is like communion wine it’s so sweet.
I’m very partial to that. I think it’s the highlight of the Sunday service sometimes.
Hurry up, we won’t let him go without you. ’
We went off to our rooms to freshen up and in the spirit of holiday enthusiasm, I put on a new sundress I had bought in one of the shops in town.
It was quite flouncy and very pretty with a pattern of pink roses.
I paired that with some white trainers and admired my reflection in the wardrobe mirror for a moment.
I didn’t look sixty-four, did I? Maybe I did. And actually, perhaps it didn’t matter.
I went back downstairs, liking how the full skirts of my new dress swirled around my knees.
I would be more adventurous in future with my fashion choices, although if I was honest, I couldn’t really see myself wearing that dress into the local supermarket or opening the door to the postman with quite the same confidence.
Still, I had enjoyed buying it, making a choice for myself without having to ask someone else’s opinion, and that had been part of my satisfaction.
‘Right then, the gang’s all here,’ Beryl said from her seat by the front door.
‘And here comes the minibus,’ Anita said, shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun as she looked down the road. ‘Gregor is right on time for once. I expect he is looking forward to visiting the vineyard. Perhaps he gets a preferential rate?’
‘I don’t know much about wine, but I know what I like,’ Dennis said. ‘I can’t be doing with all this hints of gooseberry or chocolate or vanilla. Just give me a nice glass of decent plonk and I’m happy. Anyone agree?’
‘Absolutely right, Dennis,’ Anita said, earning herself an approving nod. ‘And I tend to choose the one with the prettiest label anyway.’
‘As good a reason as any,’ Dennis said.
‘But I don’t think I’ll ever like a wine as much as I liked Tizer when I was a kid,’ she added.
‘No, well, Ronald and I weren’t allowed fizzy drinks when we were children. That’s why I’ve got my own teeth,’ Dennis said.
‘I’ve got my own teeth too,’ June piped up, ‘and I brought a spare set in my washbag.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ Dennis muttered.
* * *
The drive to the Ampelónes Apóllona – the Apollo Vineyards – took about an hour, along another picturesque road that hugged the coast. Past boats and little villages and several tiny churches of course, situated in the middle of rocky fields.
I’d counted eleven before, at last, the minibus pulled through some impressive metal gates and we stopped outside the doors to the shop.
It wasn’t what I had been expecting at all.
Everything was very modern with an attractive décor of shining glass and new wood, and there were wonderful shelves full of wine bottles.
There was a lovely warm scent everywhere.
The faint drift of garlic and herbs, mixed with wine. Even the air seemed a bit intoxicating.
We spent a few minutes outside on the terrace, admiring the view down over the sea, where we could see three speedboats swirling their wake behind them, and a couple of cruise ships moored up.
It was breathtaking. What a fabulous place to see, to be a part of with other people who were obviously equally as enchanted as I was.
Eventually, having taken lots of pictures and selfies with the sea twinkling behind us, Jillian rounded us up and led us to a long table which had been set for our group.
‘I’ve never been anywhere like this,’ I said. ‘It’s just beautiful.’
‘The Italian Lakes are like that.’ Will nodded from his seat opposite me.
‘They take your breath away. I remember looking out over Lake Eseo when I was there for a wedding. It was like being in a film set. And no painting or photograph could ever capture it. You had to be there, to really experience what the world can be like.’
How true, I thought. All the photographs and documentaries I had ever seen of places like the Grand Canyon or the pyramids probably didn’t show just how awe-inspiring they were in real life. I felt even more determined then. I would see them. I would go and find out for myself.
Shortly after that, a charming waitress came to our table and the usual discussions began about what we were going to order.
There were several possibilities. One actual glass of wine for those who preferred to keep things simple.
Or three different sample sizes. Five samples.
Seven or nine for the people taking it seriously.
‘Three glasses of wine? You’d have to carry me to the minibus. And then take me to a hospital to recover,’ June said, wide-eyed.
‘They aren’t full glasses,’ Jillian said, ‘just little measures for you to sip and then you refer to the tasting notes.’
‘I don’t think I could manage five. And does anyone ever order nine?
’ Susan said. ‘Surely that would be dangerous. I mean, I’m practically teetotal.
Just the occasional sherry or a port and lemon.
That’s about my limit these days. My mother was the same, except she used to like a Babycham at Christmas, or a snowball.
And then she would sleep on the sofa all afternoon after lunch. ’
‘They aren’t full glasses,’ Jillian sighed, ‘I told you, and it’s in the handout.’
‘And what’s this about food?’ Dennis called from his end of the table. ‘Don’t we have to order that first?’
‘It’s not actually a meal; it’s the specially selected local delicacies that they provide. It’s in the handout,’ Jillian said.
June held up her hand as though she was at school.
‘So do we have to order starters as well as main courses? Because Susan and I had quite a big lunch. We went to that place we went to the first evening. The Blue Sea. We had calamari. Absolutely lovely and fresh, not a bit like the own-brand frozen ones I’ve had from the supermarket. ’
Jillian’s smile froze a little.
‘It’s just a platter of small nibbles. Not a meal. It was all in the handout…’
‘Well, I’m not driving anywhere so I think I’ll go mad for once and have the nine glasses. But will there be dessert?’ June asked.
‘If you have nine glasses of wine, you won’t have room for dessert.’ Susan chuckled. ‘You’ll be in the back of an ambulance.’
‘It’s sample sizes,’ Jillian said through gritted teeth, ‘it’s all in the handout. I don’t know why I bother sometimes.’
‘Perhaps I’ll just have a sweet sherry,’ Susan said, looking down at the menu again, her face puzzled.
‘I don’t have to have all this, do I? As I said, I’m not much of a drinker.
Although I was when I was younger; cider and blackcurrant, that’s what I used to like. I don’t suppose they do that, do they?’
Will and I exchanged a glance across the table and both of us were obviously trying very hard not to laugh. Next to me, Beryl had no such reservations and she and Effie were by then leaning against each other laughing, Effie dabbing at her eyes with her napkin.
‘No, I shouldn’t think so, this is a vineyard, where they make wine,’ Jillian said faintly. ‘Honestly, I’m losing the will, really, I am.’
Eventually, and with commendable patience, our waitress took the orders and went off with a sigh of relief to fetch them. A few minutes later, they started arriving. Oval wooden platters with the requisite number of wine glasses on them, plus some china bowls of nibbles.
The tasting notes were clear and informative and we picked up our first glasses and tried to make the sort of faces we had seen wine experts make. Thoughtful, faintly bemused and slightly puzzled.
‘It says dry on the palate, faintly zesty and with a hint of salt,’ Anita said.
‘And crispy,’ I added, referring to my notes.
‘I’m getting white wine,’ Beryl said, ‘and it’s not at all dry, it’s quite wet.’
Jillian bent forward and gave her a look.
‘The old jokes are the best, aren’t they?’ Beryl smiled back at her.
We worked our way through the different little glasses of wines and picked at the nibbles, which included some salty pistachios, chopped-up cured meats and slices of pita bread and fava bean hummus.
‘I don’t know if these complement the wines or not,’ I said, ‘but they taste jolly nice. Did you have some of the Vin Santo, Susan? You said you like communion wine. I think you would love this.’
Susan looked down at her tasting notes. ‘I’m not sure I would. It says it’s got cinnamon, cloves and a vicious palate.’
‘Viscous palate, Susan, viscous,’ Jillian said.
Susan perked up. ‘Oh well, perhaps I’ll give it a go. I say, I feel a bit tiddly already and I’ve only tried two.’
‘Which is your favourite?’ Will asked.
I swirled the remains of some white wine around in the glass.
‘This one. Assyrtiko, the same as we had the other evening. I like the – what does it say here? – flavours of toast, vanilla and complex herbs.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you indeed?’
‘And it says here that it would have a long ageing potential. Well, it wouldn’t if it was in my fridge.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ he said, and we smiled at each other. ‘Perhaps we should buy some to take home?’
‘Well, I would but I know if I did, the bottle would break inside the suitcase and I’d never get the smell of wine out of my clothes.’
‘Then we would have to drink it here,’ he said. ‘Problem solved.’
I looked down again at my tasting notes, and then picked up a different glass, one containing a little sample of wine which was a beautiful pink blush, like the bridesmaid’s dress at Nicky’s wedding. Kissiris Rosé. I sipped it and looked thoughtfully into the distance.
We. It was a long time since a man had included me like that. To somehow make me a part of a partnership. And that definitely included Malcolm, whose pronouncements usually started with ‘I’.
Yes, I was part of a group here, and we were having a fine old time, friendly and companionable, but it was a different sort of thing when it came to Will. Exclusive but also somehow inclusive. I couldn’t quite get my head around it.
Did I want to be included in the more exclusive plans Will might make for us? How did I feel about that? I wasn’t sure.
‘I think I’ve had enough wine for a while,’ I said, putting my glass down. ‘I think my liver needs a little rest.’
He nodded. ‘I know how you feel. I’m a great one for tea though. Proper builders’ tea with one sugar.’
‘No sugar for me. I prefer tea with a couple of chocolate digestives,’ I said.
‘I’ll try and remember that,’ he said.
This comment sent me into a bit of a spin, which of course might have been due to the seven tasting glasses of wine I had sampled, but then in my defence I hadn’t finished any of them.
He was doing it again. Saying things that drew us together.
I had spent the last few years pulling away from that sort of thing, from the suffocating control of Malcolm.
And since we had divorced, I had gradually learned to be my own boss, to organise my days and not worry about what to make for dinner based on his preferences.
I looked around me. This was a lovely place, a perfect setting. It wasn’t just me who needed to rethink my life and find my place in the world. Perhaps all of us did. Did I have long ageing potential too, like the wine?
This group might be a disparate bunch who didn’t co-operate as Jillian would have wished, but they were without exception law-abiding, decent people.
No one was obnoxious or rude. Everyone was trying their best. And who knew what private traumas or problems they were dealing with?
It wasn’t just Will who was the unknown quantity here; all of us probably had difficulties, unspoken worries, illnesses and disappointments.
I felt a sudden and unexpected affection for all of them.
Perhaps it was just the occasion, the glorious setting, the sea air, the long days of sunshine and relaxation I had enjoyed. It all added up to a slightly unfamiliar feeling of being happy for no particular reason, and at the same time I was enthusiastic for what each day might bring. Anticipation.
Although I had been reasonably content with my daily life as a rule, I hadn’t felt that way for a long time. And I liked it.
There was a burst of noise from the other end of the table as Dennis told one of his stories, and June, Susan and Jillian leaned in towards him, laughing.
I suddenly needed a breath of fresh air; I got up from my seat and went to walk on the stone terraces outside with the superb views over the rocky coastline.
It felt as though this was the moment, the new beginning I had been seeking after so many years of feeling directionless and unfocused.
I had a happily married daughter, maybe the prospect of grandchildren.
I had a decent home and pension. I had my health.
I had a great deal to be thankful for. It would be wrong to let opportunities pass, to allow the future to slip past unremarked and unremarkable.
I shouldn’t take it all for granted. And I wasn’t going to. I had behaved and conformed and paid my taxes. I had earned my place. I deserved to be happy as much as the next person.
From today onwards I was going to say no if I felt like it and not explain why. And I was going to say yes to things too, broaden my mind to possibilities and opportunities. Did that include Will? Was he a possibility or an opportunity? Did that sound a bit cold blooded?
Over the last few years with Malcolm, I could see that my life had become predictable, dull and a bit sad. I’d put up with things, gone along with his plans, allowed myself to play second fiddle to his marching band. Well, now I knew what independence felt like.
From now on I was going to find my own way, look for warmth and lift my face to the sun. The prospect of this made me feel very excited.